The Cape
by AzoNintendo
Summary: Why would the Dark Knight want a little kid tagging along on his adventures?
1. Chapter 1

**So I've been reading a lot of Batman fanfics, and I've found some frickin' good ones thanks to the Fanfic Recs on TVTropes. One thing I noticed is that there aren't many good stories as to why or how Batman took in Dick Grayson, the first and in my opinion best Robin. Why would Batman, the most frightening vigilante in the Justice League, a creature of solitude, the Dark Knight, want a little kid tagging along on his adventures? **

I was still tired from practicing during intermission. It didn't help that it was almost 10:00 at night. I sat on the dirty ground, back against the wall of the stands, watching the rest of the crew set up the ladders my parents and I would need for our act.

Mom and Dad were already standing on their marks, ready to begin. That was how it usually went; they began by doing some basic moves, then I joined them after about five minutes.

Mom turned and smiled at me. I smiled back, and waved.

Truth was, I couldn't even imagine doing a full routine at the moment. I had pushed too hard practicing, and I was paying for it now. My arms were sore, and I would probably be happy to lay down and fall asleep right there on the sticky floor. But, I had to push on. It wasn't like I hadn't had nights like this before, and I had managed during those times as well.

The Ringmaster grabbed the microphone. _Here we go, _I thought.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said, his deep voice reverberating around the tent. "the Flying Graysons!"

The crowd cheered as my parents waved, the began climbing their ladders. I always got an excited leap in my stomach when our act began. I knew nothing would go wrong, but after all, we _did _perform without a safety net. There was always a possibility, but I was more excited than nervous.

My mom and dad each grabbed ropes at the same time, then flipped and switched ropes in midair. The crown cheered wildly. I got up, I knew my cue was soon.

Then, something horrible, something I'll never forget happened.

The ropes snapped.

I watched in horror as my parents fell, crumpling to the ground as the crowd gasped. Suddenly the air was filled with screams and people were getting up from their seats, rushing around either to leave or to get a better look at what had just happened.

They had to get up. They had both fallen in such awkward positions, ways that human limbs and necks couldn't possible bend, but they had to get up...

I didn't remember running over to them, but suddenly I was standing over them, so close, but simultaneously trying not to look at their broken forms. Either my head was spinning or the room was spinning, I couldn't tell. Just then, I felt someone take my shoulders me steer him away from my parents, over to the far corner of the tent. I looked up, noticed it was the Ringmaster. He looked right into my eyes and said, "Everything's gonna be okay, Dick."

I knew much later that he was lying. Straight to my face.

I stayed far away from the thick of things until the cops showed up. They were all talking to each other, trying to figure out who was responsible, but I had no idea what was going on, and I didn't fully understand that I was never going to see my parents again.

When I saw one policeman pulling white sheets over my parents, something sunk into place in my mind. I ran towards the scene, mopping at my eyes when my vision got blurry, only to be held back. Someone had grabbed my arm. I tried to wrench myself out of their grip, but I wasn't strong enough.

Finally, I stopped struggling. I looked up at the person who had grabbed me.

I jumped in shock. It was the _Batman. _He's real!

He turned to the policeman next to him. "Is this him?" His voice was deep and calm. The policeman nodded, looking a bit sad.

The Batman turned back to me and kneeled so we were looking straight into each other's eyes. Or, rather, he was looking into my eyes and I was staring at his mask. As intimidating as he was, I thought I could see empathy in the parts of his face I could see. "I'm sorry."

I let out a sob I hadn't noticed building up. Reaching out, I grabbed his cape and buried my face in the fabric. His arms went around me and, for that moment, the Bat didn't seem that scary.


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, this chapter turned out much longer than the first. Please, critique me, I want to be better at writing these characters, and I appreciate every review.**

I remember a long time ago, probably when I was 7 or 8 years old, I was practicing flips with my parents. It might've been the first time I was ever taught to do it, in fact. My parents were very good at what they did. I knew that as long I was in their hands, I was safe.

I walked along the balance beam, arms stuck out at my sides. My mom was on one side of me, my dad on the other, ready to catch me if I fell. What they wanted me to do was run in a straight line, do a front flip, and land back on the balance beam. I had seen each of them do it dozens of times, but somehow I didn't think I could. And I wasted no time telling my dad this.

"Dad, I can't do it! It's too hard!"

He raised an eyebrow and smiled. "It's not that hard! It's actually pretty simple."

"But what if I fall?" My shoulders slumped and I dropped my arms, at the same time almost losing my balance. My parents each raised their arms in case I fell, but I righted myself before they had to do anything. My dad smirked.

"I don't think you will."

But right then, being the 7 or 8 year old that I was, I wanted someone to agree with me. So I turned to my mom. She just smiled the same smile my dad did. "You can do it, my little robin."

I groaned. I hated it when she called me that. But, I decided I should try the move. Just to make them happy.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

But, when I opened them, I wasn't with my parents. I wasn't even in the gym. I was lying in a bed in the Gotham City Orphanage.

Kicking the musty covers to the end of the bed, I sat up and looked around. I was one of many children in the rows of beds lining the walls, but I was the only one awake. I checked the clock. 12:04. It had been nearly 2 hours since...

I bit my lip to stop the sobs from happening again. I couldn't deal, at least at the moment, with the fact that my entire life had changed in a single moment. It was too much to bear to even think about what was going to happen. Was I going to spend the rest of my life in this orphanage? What if someone adopted me? Would I have to call them "Mom" or "Dad"?

I got up and looked out the window. Gotham looked prettier when you weren't actually walking around in its streets, just looking out on it. It was impossibly dark, with pinpricks of light scattered throughout it. But, no matter how pretty Gotham could be, I still hated that I was stuck there and not traveling with Haley's Circus where I belonged.

Just then, the door opened. I dove back into bed and threw the covers back over me just in time. I had my eyes shut, but from what I could tell it was two pairs of footsteps that moved quietly around the room. Then, someone whispered.

"He's there. I don't want to wake him, but now that I think about it, he might want to leave now." He paused. "He has no family. His parents were all he had."

The next voice was deeper. "He's had a rough night. Let him sleep."

It was then I realized that they were both standing next to my bed. Had someone come to take me home with them? As much as I didn't want a new family, I really didn't want to stay at this orphanage one moment longer. I feigned a yawn, then pretended I was just waking up. When I opened my eyes, I saw the owner of the orphanage, an old man with silvery hair that walked with a cane, and a man I had never seen before. He was tall, with wide shoulders, and wore an expensive-looking suit.

"Dick, you're awake," the owner said. He gestured to the man next to him. "This man has come to adopt you."

* * *

><p>Besides the nice suit, the first thing I noticed about him that I wasn't used to was the fact that he had a chauffeur. The man opened the car door for us without saying a word. I climbed in, placing my suitcase with my few possessions on my lap. The man who had adopted me sat next to me, so tall his head brushed the ceiling.<p>

"Richard, my name is Bruce Wayne," he said, and smiled, and for a moment I was reminded of my father. I mentally kicked myself. There was no way I was replacing him.

I wanted to tell him to call me Dick, but I couldn't muster up the will to speak, so I just nodded. This was terrible. I was already trying to convince myself that this wasn't really happening, but everything that was happening I was so unused to.

We drove for some time in silence. His house must have been right on the outskirts of Gotham. When we finally arrived, I almost gasped. His house was _gigantic. _I wondered if he had a family, a wife and kids, that he shared that huge house with.

We exited the car. I craned my neck upward to try to get a look at the house close up, but it was too tall. When we entered the front hall, I was instantly surprised. The walls were covered in old paintings, expensive looking vases and statues covered the shelves, and everything looked very fancy. But, what surprised me was how empty it all felt. I had a suspicion that the decor was the closest thing Bruce got to company.

There was a tall, kind looking old man standing in the foyer. Just as I was starting to get annoyed at how everyone seemed to be taller than me, the man walked up to me and grasped my hand in a handshake. "Hello, Master Richard, I've been expecting you. My name is Alfred." He spoke with a British accent, and was probably the most proper sounding man I'd ever spoken to. There was no doubt in my mind that he was the butler. "Your bedroom is on the second floor, third door on the left. Would you like me to help you find it?"

"No thanks," I replied. "I'll be able to find it."

"Well, you can go unpack, then," Bruce said. "And you should go to sleep, it's really late."

I nodded. I still couldn't bring myself to speak directly to Bruce. As I walked through the too-large hallways and tried not to touch the breakable items that seemed to be everywhere, I was overwhelmed by everything that was happening. I was actually going to _live _here.

I stopped in my tracks, dropping my suitcase. It opened as soon as it hit the ground, its contents spilling over the ornate carpet. I wanted to move, but grief was gluing me to the floor. What was going to happen to me? What was my life going to be like without my parents? What if Bruce wanted me to call him "Dad"?

I bit my lip and put my hands over my eyes, but I could stop the tears from spilling out. I hated that I couldn't even make it to my room, which I now couldn't remember where it was, before I completely broke down.

I wiped at my eyes a few times, then stared down at my open suitcase. A few articles of clothing were now laying on the floor, along with something I had almost forgotten about. My childhood teddy bear. I remembered that I had almost neglected to pack it, because of the social workers that were standing over me and urging me to hurry, but somehow I couldn't. It was the only memory I had of what was left of my childhood. I had had it since I was born.

I picked it up. It was pretty old and you could see where it had had to be resown several times. I had simply called it Bear, but it lost an eye when I was around 8 and my dad started calling it Cyclops Bear. Remembering this, tears came to my eyes for the second time.

"Master Richard?" I looked up.

Alfred was standing next to me, looking at me with a worried expression. All I could think to say was, "You can call me Dick."

"Master Dick, then. Are you alright?" I nodded.

Alfred sighed, then put a hand on my shoulder. I remembered then that the last time I had touched another human being was back at the tent, when I had cried into the Batman's cape, but then again, I didn't even know if Batman was fully human. "Let's pick all this up."

We both stuffed clothing into my suitcase for a few moments, in silence, until Alfred spoke again. "Is that your bear, Master Dick?"

"Yeah." I looked down at the thing, still in my hand. "I've had it forever, and I know it's really old and I'm not supposed to have stuff like that 'cause I'm older, b-but it's the only thing I h-have l-left-" The rest of my sentence dissolved into yet more tears. Alfred took me in his arms.

"There, there," he said. "You're going to be fine."

* * *

><p>I was exhausted. The covers I was under were fluffy and clean and comfortable, and it was dark. But I couldn't sleep there any more than I could sleep in the ratty bed at the orphanage.<p>

I rolled over and stared at one spot on the wall for what seemed like an eternity, until the whole room was bathed in light. I sat up. Nothing had changed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry about the lack of updates. I haven't been near computers lately. **

**I might be taking some stuff from the Nolanverse (like how to get into the Batcave). **

I stared at the ceiling, feeling intensely hollow inside. This was the first day of my life without my parents.

The clock on the wall told me it was 6:00. In my mind, that was way too early to get up, but I couldn't take another second of lying in bed doing nothing. I threw the blankets off of myself and jumped out of bed. Grabbing my suitcase, I placed it on my bed and opened it, searching around until I found some clothes to wear. Once I was dressed, I exited my room.

As soon as I opened the door, I smelled a familiar aroma that had filled my trailer more than once, which was the smell of pancakes being cooked on the stove. Almost instantly, my stomach grumbled ferociously. How long had it been since I'd eaten? It hadn't seemed like it had been that long, but I was still a very hungry person. I followed the enticing scent downstairs to the kitchen to find Alfred standing at the stove holding a spatula.

"Good morning, Master Dick," Alfred said pleasantly, flipping over a pancake. "Would you like breakfast?"

I sat down lightly at the counter, noting that Alfred remembered that I preferred to be called Dick. Suddenly, I felt more at ease. "Sure."

Alfred slid one of the pancakes onto a plate and placed it in front of me. I grabbed the syrup bottle sitting beside me and drowned my meal in it. Alfred raised an eyebrow at it and asked, "Perhaps you'd like some pancake with your syrup?"

At this, I cracked a smile, which in turn made Alfred grin.

I shoveled the food into my mouth, instantly lighting up a little more at the fact that Alfred seemed to be an awesome chef. "This is great."

"Why, thank you." Alfred had stacked the rest of the pancakes on another plate and was beginning to clean the pans. "How are you this morning, Master Dick?"

I hesitated before answering. "I'm okay." I decided to focus on the sweetness of the saturated pancakes for a while instead of the aching holes in my heart where my parents once were.

When I finished eating, Alfred took my dishes. I decided to make small talk. "So, do you do all the work around here?"

"I do."

"Doesn't it take a while to clean the place? It's pretty big."

"We don't use most of the mansion," Alfred explained. "Although I suppose we'll get more use out of the place with you around, eh?"

I was confused by this. "You mean you and Mr. Wayne are the only ones that live here? But it's so huge! He doesn't have a wife or anything?" I looked around the kitchen as if I expected more people to emerge from a cupboard. "And where is he, anyway?"

"Master Bruce has already gone off to work," Alfred said.

"When's he gonna be back?"

"Around suppertime. But he will be returning to work again after that, and he won't be back until late."

"What does he do for all that time?" I imagined lots of pointless mathematics in a small office and frowned.

Alfred seemed to pause. He turned to place the plate of pancakes in the refrigerator and didn't look at me when he answered. "Master Bruce has a very demanding job."

That was the last I heard of Bruce's job for a while.

* * *

><p>Dinner that night was, to sum it up in one word, uncomfortable.<p>

Bruce had rushed in, wrenching off his tie, and accepted a plate of spaghetti from Alfred. He ate it more quickly than I'd ever seen anyone eat, then said, "I need to leave early tonight, Alfred."

"I would think that you wouldn't leave until a bit _later _tonight, Master Bruce," Alfred replied. I thought I saw him look pointedly at me.

Bruce definitely looked at me, as if he was just noticing I was there. He seemed to consider what to say next. "I have a lot of work to do tonight. I'm sorry, Richard." Well, at least he genuinely looked sorry.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Master Bruce, I believe your work can wait for one night."

I wondered why Alfred was being so pushy. I mean, I wasn't _that _excited to spend time with Bruce. I couldn't explain why. Maybe I didn't want him to replace my parents.

Bruce thought for a minute, seeming to weigh his options. "I suppose it could wait until later."

Alfred smiled at him contentedly, then turned to me. "Why don't you go to the living room to wait for us? I'll clean this up."

I obeyed, but as I left the room, something caught my ear.

"You haven't been giving out new arrival a very warm welcome, Master Bruce."

I decided to stop and eavesdrop. Bruce spoke next. "I know, I know. I just don't have _time._"

"Which begs the question - why adopt a child when you have no time to raise him?"

Bruce sighed heavily. "I can't just leave him alone, Alfred. But my work can't wait, and you know that."

"I know your responsibilities. But you must think of his feelings! The boy's parents were killed just yesterday, and you know all too well what it's like to lose - Oh, Master Dick?"

Oops. I hadn't payed attention to the voices getting closer to the door. I looked to see Alfred and Bruce exiting the kitchen, both of them staring down at me.

Bruce looked at us both, then his face seemed to fall. "I've got to go to work." He walked off quickly.

Once Bruce had gone, Alfred spoke. "It's quite rude to eavesdrop, Master Dick."

There was only one thing I could think to say. "Why did you say my parents were killed? It was an accident." As soon as he'd said those words, my veins had run cold for two reasons - that someone had wanted to murder my parents, and that Alfred and Bruce knew something they were keeping from me.

Alfred turned white as a sheet. "S-slip of the tongue, Master Dick. Now, off to bed you go." He patted me on the shoulder a few times to shoo me away.

"But it's only seven o'clock!"

"Even so! Go ahead upstairs and get ready for bed," Alfred said insistently. I decided to go ahead and do what he said, knowing I wouldn't win an argument with him.

* * *

><p>I woke up in a cold sweat with a gasp. The blanket was sticking to me, feeling as though it was suffocating me. I frantically wrenched it off, breathing deeply.<p>

I checked the clock on the wall, but had to blink a few times when I realized I couldn't see through the tears that formed in my eyes. It was fifteen minutes past midnight. I thought hard. What had my dream been about?

I remembered a few images. The colorful pattern of the circus tent. The feeling of the acrobat's bar beneath my palms. A brush of fingertips as I failed to catch my mother. The sensation of falling. An arm bend too far the wrong way. A vertebra sticking out of my father's neck. Blood on the floor, then on my hands.

I almost leaned over the side of the bed and puked right there. Instead, I jumped out of bed and paced back and forth in front of my bed. I was too afraid to go back to sleep, but still too tired to practice my acrobatics. Besides, when was I gonna get a chance to use them again?

As I dwelled on that sad thought that I wasn't ever going to get to perform my tricks again, my door flew open. There stood Bruce, wearing button up pajamas and looking out of breath. "Richard! What's going on? Are you okay?"

I knotted my brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I heard you screaming! I thought someone broke in!"

"Oh." I hugged my arms to my chest. Had I been screaming in my sleep? I must have been. "No, that was nothing. I'm sorry."

Bruce's shoulders seemed to relax, satisfied that I wasn't in any immediate danger. He stepped further into the room until he was standing directly in front of me, then knelt down to my level. "Are you sure that you're okay?"

I nodded, but my eyes betrayed me by filling up with tears once more. Bruce silently pulled me close to him. I grabbed the fabric of his pajamas and cried for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes. Once I had calmed down, I spoke. "Can you read me a bedtime story?"

"Of course." He stood up and turned to a bookshelf that was against the wall. "How about... _The Tortoise and the Hare_?"

"Okay," I answered. Nobody had read me a bedtime story since I was six, but for that night, I needed it.

I climbed into bed, and Bruce sat down next to me. "Alright, Richard-"

"You can call me Dick."

Bruce nodded. "Alright, Dick. This was one of my favorites when I was a kid..."

I sat there while he read me the story, content and warm for the first time in days. Bruce's voice reminded me of my father's when he had read me stories, and I allowed myself to take comfort in that. When he finished it, I was still awake. We sat there in silence for a few minutes. Bruce must have thought I'd fallen asleep. When he made to get up, I spoke. "Bruce? Do you remember earlier today in the kitchen?"

"Yes, what about it?"

"Alfred said that you knew what it was like to lose your parents."

Bruce's entire body seemed to tense up next to me. "You heard that."

"Yeah." I was curious to know what he was hiding, but I was also afraid to hear him explain.

Bruce turned so that he was facing me. I could only just make out his features in the darkness. His voice was deadly serious when he said, "Have you ever seen _Mark of the_ _Zorro_?"

It was so far from anything I expected him to say that I almost smiled, but I stopped myself. "No."

"Of course not, it came out when I was eight. I saw that movie with my parents. I was so excited to see it, I was slashing up house plants with sticks weeks before we went. Nearly drove my mother crazy. I remember she was wearing these pearls my father had gotten her for her birthday... They were quite beautiful. Brightest thing I could see that night." Bruce was no longer looking at me, but at the wall behind me.

"We left the theater and cut through an alleyway to get to our car more quickly. It was my idea." He paused. The brief silence was heavy before he continued. "Then, he arrived. His name was Joe Chill, and he had a gun. My father instantly went in front of us, tried to protect my mother and I. Chill wanted money. I don't remember what they said, but when Chill reached out to grab my mother's pearls, my father blocked him. That's when the gun went off."

I was frozen, too afraid to move. "What happened next?" I asked quietly.

"My father fell. My mother screamed, and the gun went off a second time. Chill pointed the gun at me while he grabbed the wallet, but I don't think he had it in him to kill a child. I was left there, alone, with my parents until the police arrived." Bruce looked back at me. "And that's how I know what it's like to lose your parents."

I let his story sink in. I knew, subconsciously, that he had to have been in the audience that night my parents fell, but neither of us had to say it.

I felt the bed shift as Bruce got up. "Goodnight, Dick."

I grabbed his arm before he could. "No. Stay."

Bruce stayed. I lied close to him, already almost falling asleep before Bruce spoke again. "Dick, I promise that I will not replace your father."

"Okay," was all I could say before I lost consciousness.


End file.
